SoMa shenanigans
by Tulip.scales.512
Summary: Collection of random oneshots that have been posted on the tumblr.
1. Reindeer

"Papa, really? We don't need more decorations!" Maka Albarn said to her father as he grabbed his keys to head out to the store for, yet another string of Christmas lights and who knows what else?

"Maka, yes we do. Now, I will be back on about an hour or two. Keep an eye on the enemy and text me if anything new happens." And he walked out the door without another word.

Every year in December, the neighbourhood had their annual House Decorating competition. Spirit Albarn always went all out for it. It started out as a fun thing to try, but ever since their neighbours, the Evans' beat him by one whole point, it had become personal.

It was a rivalry.

Maka has had to deal with it for 18 years now and she hated it every year. Yet she always got roped into it every year because her father would make her come and help him set up all the lights.

Honestly she thought it was pointless, starting a war with the Evans'. They were rich and had much more to work with. But _nooo_ _!_ Her dad had put a savings away every year for buying more Christmas decorations.

It was insane.

She was about to grab a book off the coffee table to get her mind off this whole shebang when she heard a knock at the front door.

She walked over and opened the door to reveal a tall boy with messy snow-white hair and sleepy red eyes. He looked about her age, and she couldn't help but notice that he smelled nice—maybe Old Spice cologne?—and looked really attractive.

"Albarn right?" —Oh jeez, he even sounded sexy— "I'm Soul Evans, I live in the house just up the street and I've got something to say to you."

"Evans? Oh dear, is this about the light contest?" Maka didn't try to hide her irritation at the mention of the dreaded annual event.

"Of course it is. And it's not just a light competition. It is a _decoration war_ _._ And I've come here to get my reindeer back." He looked angry and determined. Did not seem like a good combination to Maka.

"Reindeer? What are you talking about?"

"You, or someone in your family stole my reindeer. I can't have Santa's sleigh without all nine reindeer."

"Oh good lord, I am going to kill him." She mumbled under her breath. She looked back up at the boy at the door who had his arms crossed over his chest in irritation. "Sorry, Soul, was it? I did not steal your reindeer, nor do I know where it is. Why do you automatically assume someone in my family did it, anyway?"

"Because you're the enemy. You guys are the only ones in this neighbourhood that actually takes this almost as seriously as I do."

"I'm sorry, I don't take kindly to people who call me "the enemy." If you could please leave, that would be much appreciated." she started to close the door when a large boot stopped it.

"Listen tiny tits, I don't have time for your games. I need my reindeer, and I better get it back, or else." he lowered his voice threateningly.

Maka was now fuming. This kid had a lot of nerve to come to her house and threaten her. There was no way she would give him his reindeer back after that. Even if she _did_ know where it was.

"Excuse me? I already told you I don't know where your reindeer is. Now _get off my property._ _"_

"No. I need my Vixen back."

Maka's eyebrows shot up.

"Shit, no, the _reindeer._ Vixen is the name of the _reindeer_ _._ And I better get him back."

"Listen. I didn't steal anything. If you're right in saying that someone from this house did, then it was my dad. Actually, there's a fairly large chance that you're right, and that it actually _was_ my dad. _I could care less about this stupid competition!"_

Soul just looked at her and laughed.

"Do you find this amusing? Because just a moment ago you were practically threatening me, and now you're laughing at me. I'm not sure how to feel about this…"

"You want to go get some coffee with me?" He asked nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Christmas flavours are all over the place. Gingerbread lattes. Personally I prefer peppermint, but hey, whatever floats your boat."

"I'm sorry, am I missing something here? I thought you were angry about your precious Christmas decorations. Now you're… you're asking me out on a date?"

"Sure, if you want to look at that way. I'd like to look at it that way. So what do you say?" He flashed her a charming smile, showing shiny white—and pointy?— teeth.

"I'm sorry, I'm still a bit confused. Weren't you angry just a moment ago?"

"I was, still am, kind of. But not at you." He started rubbing at the back of his neck. He seemed… nervous? "I knew your crazy dad stole that reindeer. I was actually kinda happy when he did, because it gave me an excuse to come and talk to you. And when you said you don't like the competition, I knew you wouldn't care if 'the enemy' asked you out. Soo… about that coffee?" The corner of his mouth lifted into a nervous half smile.

Maka was dumbfounded by the whole ordeal. Her cheeks were warm and she figured they were bright red at this point. When the whole thing registered in her head and she regained her composure she told him, "I don't know. I don't think my dad would approve of me dating the enemy."

Soul let out a genuine laugh. "Something tells me you don't _quite_ care about your dad's approval."

"Not for this, I don't. I'd love to come! Let me grab my coat." She went and retrieved her coat from out of the closet and hopped out to door.

They went and got into Soul's red Camaro, and she texted her dad saying:

 _"Hey, I'm not sure, but I think I saw some sparks coming from the Evans'"_


	2. Chiselled Features

_When Maka heard they would have a figure model for art class, she naturally expected him to be aesthetically pleasing, but she did not anticipate herself being personally attracted to him. At least not nearly this much. But damn it, he was hot. And naked. And she had to draw him. And, of course, she got the full front view of him._

Her cheeks started to warm up when he strode over to the stand in the middle of the room at the beginning of class. And when he took his position in the middle of the room ready to be drawn by everyone in the class, she knew that the rest of class would not be as easy as it usually was.

After a getting the basic sketch done, the room felt about 10 degrees warmer than it did at the beginning of class. She looked up from her sketchpad trying to decide which… feature would be best to start working on first.

Why did she have to be drawing him from the front.

She couldn't say that she didn't really enjoy the view. But she had to draw it. And that was a little hard when she kept getting… distracted.

She started working on drawing the face. His snowy white hair looked soft and gorgeous. She could just imagine running her fingers through— Wait, she was not imagining things like that. He had an impeccable jawline, and amazing bone structure, speaking from an artistic point of view, that is. His lips looked soft, supple, and they looked beautiful, she wondered how they would feel on— No. She admired them with an artist's perspective. Not… like that. He had gorgeous, deep red eyes that were mesmerizing and… wait. He was looking at her. Looking at her tomato red face. And did he just wink at her? He just winked at her. Why did he just wink at her?

She decided to skip the face for now. She decided to move down and work on the torso. That wouldn't be too hard to focus on. The beautifully sculpted abs and pecs were easy enough, and she had finally started to cool down. His arms - his very muscular arms - took her a short while, but she had no troubles with that. His hands looked calloused, like he worked with them He had long fingers that looked very skilled in… anyway! She may have felt her face grow warmer. She tried her best to ignore it.

Seeing as how she seemed to be making her way down, the next… part to draw had her feeling about 14 degrees warmer and had her going probably about 15 different shades of red. She should not have been this shy about it. It wasn't like she hadn't seen a naked man before. Not like she hadn't had… experience.

It took her much longer than she had liked, but finally she managed to get through the many levels of discomfort and she could finally move to drawing his legs. Now that she was done with that particular feature, she figured the rest would be as easy as pie.

She, apparently, had been mistaken.

She finally looked up to draw his face, and— was he always making that face? Did he always have that smirk? Had he always looked so goddamned sexy? And why was the tip of his tongue out? Was that out earlier? Was she imagining things? No, he put his tongue back inside his mouth. He was just licking his lips. His gorgeous lips. And did he just wink at her again?

Goddammit, he was enjoying this, wasn't he? Oh, yes he was. If he kept this up, she decided she might just have to kill him afterward. She didn't even know him and she wanted to kill him. That was a first for her.

And to make matters worse, her drawing skills were dropping with her irritation, making the face harder to draw, and causing her to have to keep staring at it for longer.

After what seemed like for too long a time, she finally finished the drawing. She didn't want to have to look it over to make sure there were no mistakes, but, being the perfectionist that she was, she couldn't just leave it as is. Luckily enough, there was nothing too terrible. She had to fix up the hands just a bit, and one of the feet was a little off. It was an easy fix. Finally she was all done with the stupid drawing. And just in time for the end of class too.

She took a look at her drawing one last time before closing up her sketch pad.

"Liked what you saw?" a smooth deep voice spoke up behind her. She turned around to see that all too familiar face that she probably would not forget for a long time, that same face she had been staring at for the past half hour, maybe longer. Luckily he had put on a dressing robe, so she no longer had to see everything else she had been staring at for who knew how long.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did you like what you saw?" he repeated, pronouncing his words crisply.

Was this guy for real?

"Well, from an artist's point of view, it was… aesthetically pleasing."

"Yeah, I could tell by the 27 different shades of red on your face."

"I was not embarrassed, if that's what you're implying." She retorted indignantly.

"Then tell me, what reason is there for someone to be blushing so furiously other than embarrassment?"

"It was not because I was embarrassed, it was because the room got too hot."

"That's because I was in here."

Maka's eyes widened and she arched an eyebrow at him, "Well someone's full of himself."

"You do realise I just had about two dozen people draw me naked, right? It's not like I'm insecure about my appearance."

"Yes, I am well aware of that. And just because you're not insecure about it, doesn't mean you have to be quite so arrogant."

"True, but arrogance is much more fun than humility. And besides, someone as good looking as I am, has some room to be at least a little arrogant."

"Okay, very full of yourself, I see. Well, it was nice talking to you and all, and thank you for agreeing to be a figure model, now I really must be going." She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder as she turned to walk out the door.

"Oh, so you did like what you saw."

She turned back to look at him, and his expression was cocky and smug. "I never said that."

"Well, technically you did, you know, with the whole 'aesthetically pleasing' thing." His words were laced with mockery and his smirk was _

"I cannot believe you. You are insufferable. I've only been talking to you for three minutes and you're already insufferable."

"Well, what can I say?"

"Apparently a lot. And most of the things you do say are irritating as hell."

"Hey, are you heading to another?"

"Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Yes, and I'd like to get there on time, so if you could please let me leave." Her impatience was showing in her voice and she hoped he would get the picture.

"It's not guitar class is it? Because, I'm heading there right after I get some actual clothes on. So, if you'll just wait for me, I'd love to accompany you on your way, if you wouldn't mind." He reached down to grab his bag that sat against the wall.

"Sorry, I want to head over there as soon as possible, don't want the teacher getting mad at me for being late."

"He won't get mad at you."

"Why do you assume that?"

"Because I'm the teacher." He tossed her a wink and clicked out of the side of his mouth as he walked past her to go get dressed.

She just stood in place, mouth agape and completely speechless. If he was as irritating a teacher as he was a conversationalist, she might just carry through with that unspoken threat she made earlier about killing him. Then again, if he was as attractive playing the guitar as he was naked, then she might have a problem.


	3. Definitely a Mistake

The loud rapping at the door may have been enough to wake him up if he wasn't already suffering from his stupid goddamn insomnia. He got up from his bed and started walking toward the front door. _Who would be knocking on his door at 3am in the morning anyway? Wait, it wasn't…_

He opened the door to see the messy ash blonde hair, the green eyes, and the blank expression that he had seen many times before at his door late at night.

 _Of course it was her. Who else would it have been?_

He did what he normally did and snapped his fingers in front of her face a few times to see if it would wake her up. It didn't work. It never did.

 _Who the hell sleepwalks that much? And why did she always come to his door?_

She didn't know the girl, not personally that is. They had passed each other often in the hallways, exchanged greetings, he knew her name was Maka and that was about it. He also knew she left for work at the same time he did and that she was incredibly perky in the mornings. She would, considering how well she sleeps. He also knew she never remembered sleepwalking and knocking on his door.

Why did it have to be his door? Out of all the apartments in the whole goddamn building, why did she choose his to always come and pound on? _She lived three floors down for fuck's sake._

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, leading her away from his apartment and started leading her down the stairs. Halfway down the first set of stairs, however, she decided to lean her head on his shoulder and go completely limp. Luckily he had good enough reflexes to catch her before she could hurt herself from falling down.

He let out a tired and irritated groan as he moved his arm behind her legs to pick her up bridal style. She was a bit heavier than he expected, probably from the sleepy dead weightedness. Her head on his chest and she felt warm. He couldn't help but notice how nice it felt, the warmth, the physical contact, how soft her hair felt on his chest—

Crap, he forgot to put a shirt on. Ah fuck it, it wasn't like anyone was going to be coming out of their apartment and seeing him so late at night.

The two and a half flights of stairs took longer than usual with the added weight and the slow pace he was using so he wouldn't drop her. But her steady breathing and her tiny, light snores were calming. They made him forget his irritation. It was nice and he liked it.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts as he reached her apartment. He opened the door and walked through inside. It was nice and spacious compared to his own and it smelled like an Macintosh candle. There were a few bookshelves around, a three foot stack of books on the coffee table, and right in front of the coffee table was a sofa.

Perfect. He could just lay her down on the couch, that way he could avoid being too creepy for going into some girl he didn't know's room.

He walked the short distance between the doorway and the sofa, and he set her down gently on the soft cushions before grabbing a blanket and spreading it across her.

As he turned on his heel to walk out the door, he was not expecting to see any sort of movement, so when he saw a small black figure slink across the floor, his shout and falling over from the shock was the only natural response. However, that response managed to also knock over the three foot stack of books and some of them landed on his own face and— _shit_. They hit Maka as well. And she was starting to wake up.

 _Shit, shit, shit, how was he going to explain the fact that he was in her apartment? On her floor? In front of the couch that she was sleeping on._

He heard her tired and slightly confused moans turn into a gasp of complete shock and maybe fear, and he knew he was screwed.

"Who the hell are you and what are the fuck are you doing in my apartment?" She nearly shouted at him. And who could blame her for shouting? "Wait, aren't you that guy who lives upstairs?"

He stood up and turned to her, holding his arms up, hopefully showing that he wasn't here to harm her or anything. "Sorry. Yeah, it's me, Soul, your neighbor from three flights up. I'm here because you were sleepwalking and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I do not sleepwalk."

"Um, yes, you do. In fact you do it a lot. And often. And you always end up knocking on my door."

"But you live three floors up from me." Her voice was getting higher, if it was from tiredness or something else, he didn't know.

His hand flew up to the back of his neck. "Yeah, we kinda covered that? Sorry, I just… you knocked on my door and I led you back here. That's all."

Her brow was creased in confusion, and he may have been imagining it, but he was pretty sure there might have been some anger in her expression. He figured it would be best to get out of there as soon as possible, in case she decided to react to her apartment being invaded with violence.

"So, I should, I should probably go. I'll just be going now." he said after a brief moment of silence before on his heel to leave.

"Wait, hold on," he stopped in his track and turned back to look at her. "You said I do this a lot? Sleepwalk, I mean."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do."

"And I always come knocking on your door?"

"Yeah, it's a pain in the ass to be honest." She looked almost hurt by his words and he quickly tried to find words to save himself while his hand instinctively mauled the back of his neck. "I mean, it's not like it's too much trouble. I'm usually already awake whenever you come knocking. And three flights isn't that long a journey."

"I'm so sorry. God, I didn't know I did that." she ran her hands through her bangs, looking almost ashamed of her unconscious habit. She looked up at him, her eyebrows knitted together. "Three flights?"

"Uhh, yeah? That would be correct."

"Wow. I am so sorry. I had absolutely no idea that I sleepwalk, and I'm so sorry that I apparently keep bothering you whenever I do."

He shrugged his shoulders, and waved off her apology. "Nah, you're fine. Like I said, it's not too much trouble leading you back here."

An awkward silence fell over them, and the back of Soul's neck burned from how much he had been scratching it. Just then a small black cat jumped onto the couch and into Maka's lap. _So that was what startled him and caused him to wake her up._

"You know," he spoke up, breaking through the quiet. "I'm kinda tired, and I should probably let you get to sleep as well. So, I'm just gonna go now."

"Yeah okay." she stood up from her spot on the couch, letting the cat jump down and nuzzle her ankle as she took a small step towards him. "Thanks for leading me back here, I guess. I'll show you out." She placed her hand on his shoulder but quickly retracted it as it came in contact with his bare skin.

He just barely caught a glimpse of the dark shade of red that her cheeks had adopted as he tossed a "g'night!" over his shoulder and walked out the door.

…

The next morning when he passed her in the hallway, she blushed lightly as she did everything she could to avoid eye contact with him. He figured he should either just ignore her or carry on like normal with a simple greeting. But why not mess with her a little bit?

"Oh, and by the way," she looked up at him. "You snore too, and it's really cute." She blushed even more furiously and just as he said it to her, their neighbour, Black Star, who lived across from Maka stepped out of his apartment.

"Dude, does that mean what I think it means?" he said in slight disbelief and before they could correct him in his assumptions, he was already past them and running down the stairs, probably ready to spread some goddamn rumour.

 _Shit, maybe he shouldn't have said that._

He received a punch to the arm from Maka, and his suspicions were confirmed.

 _Yep. Definitely a mistake in saying that._


	4. Beeping Machines

Maka panics the second Soul's shaft goes flying from her hand. She can feel her eyes widen like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. Before she can register the kishin moving toward her, she's knocked into a brick wall. The force of the impact causes a terrible pain to shoot through her entire body. Her mind is hazy, her back and chest ache most of all, and she can just barely hear her partner shouting something.

She can't see anything. Her vision is just a pool of black and purple, any blood that was once in her head feels gone, and everything around her sounds fuzzy.

She closes her eyes and leans against the cold hard bricks. This has happened to her plenty of times, all she has to do was wait it out. She would regain her senses in full soon, and she would be fine.

A bone chilling shriek cuts through the air, paired with a cry from Soul. Maka's eyes shoot open and she practically jumps up onto her feet. She leans against the wall for support and once she regains her balance again, she begins to scan the whole area desperately trying to find her partner. She sees the kishin soul suspended in air and the burning smell from the beaten enemy lingers around her. Her eyes dart in every direction and they finally find the familiar mop of white hair slowly becoming contaminated with the red of blood.

 _It can't be his blood._

Her feet move before her mind does, and she was soon kneeling down next to Soul rolling him over and holding him in her arms.

"Maka," his voice is weaker than anything she had ever heard. She can tell he is in such intense pain worse than she could imagine, and yet he still manages a tiny smile when he looks into her eyes.

Her eyes are emptying out her tears so fast that her vision wouldn't be able to clear even if she tried.

"Maka, I—" Soul inhales sharply in pain.

"Soul, you're fine, stop it." she chokes out. "We'll get you to the hospital, you're fine."

"I think…" another wince. "I might…"

"Soul, no, you can't die. You're going to make it."

"Maka…"

"Soul, if you did, I will kill you." her tears are hot, coming down her face like waterfalls.

Soul manages a small laugh turning to a cry of pain, but he still looks up at her with a smile. "I don't doubt it." he breathes out. His face is now covered in both his own tears and the tears that are still falling from Maka's cheeks.

His crimson eyes close and his head falls. Her face is soaked with the pain and sadness of the mere thought of losing her partner. She leans her head down onto his chest and listens to the faint heartbeat as her tears stain his shirt.

—-

The beeping is the worst part. Aside from her unconscious partner who has been in a coma for the past month and a half, that is.

Maka can't stand the beeping of the machines— she never could. Machines indicating that they were, in fact, in a hospital, that Soul did not, in fact, make it out of that battle okay.

Sure, they had come out of kishin fights banged up and bruised, sometimes— many times— had to stay in the hospital for a few days. But that was only ever for a week at the most; seven days. Soul had been in this goddamn hospital for forty-seven days already and their apartment felt empty without him. He was going to be fine and be back home sometime soon, she was sure of it. But the wait was horrible.

She sits there staring at him, watching as his chest rises and falls with the sound of his breathing. _He always was a loud breather._ Her soul reaches out to his without even thinking and her heart shatters when nothing happens. She knows nothing happens, she's done that so many times before and she is well aware of the fact that he can't respond to her. His soul won't reach back, they can't resonate because he's in a coma.

She feels a trail of dampness appear on her cheek and she's quick to wipe it away. She's shed enough tears and she's tired of them.

She stands up and walks over to the window. Her legs are wobbly as she walks and she realises just how long she's been sitting down. She got to the hospital three hours ago and she hadn't moved since. She takes a seat on the windowsill and just stares outside. It's a rainy afternoon, it looks dreary and sad reflecting her own mood.

Soul loved the rain. Her loved the way it looked and loved going out and standing in it. It was relaxing for him. Maka didn't used to like it, but she learned to appreciate it over time. After so many times of Soul grabbing her hand and leading her outside to run around, to dance, to simply enjoy the weather, she eventually found it calming.

Not today. Today it's just a reminder of how the sun is gone along with all the light in her life because Soul isn't there to cheer her up. He isn't there to make her smile. He isn't there to make her feel happy.

She sees the raindrops roll down the window much like the tears that begin to roll down her cheeks. She doesn't wipe them away this time. Instead she lets them come. There is no point in stopping the inevitable sadness. No point in hiding it.

The tears feel good as they fall down. The sound of her sniffles make her feel somewhat better. She's cried so many times in this very room, but this has been the only time it made her feel less sad, less empty, less alone.

It takes her a very brief moment to realise that it's not the crying that helps her. It was the familiar feel of a soul connecting with hers. A soul that grabbed on when she reached out for him. A soul that has always been there for her and always will be.

She turned around to see those beautiful red eyes that make her heart flutter. They're crinkled at the corners and she see the corners of his lips are turned up in a smile. That smile is for her.

She runs over to him and wraps her arms around his neck. She picks her head up and kisses him, tasting the salt of her sadness now replaced with the feel of his lips on hers. It's a feeling of true bliss and joy.

She pulls away and see his eyes still crinkled at the edges, but his smile bigger this time.

"Soul," is all she can say. Her smile and downpour of tears hinder her from being able to speak and she's okay with that. That's all she needs to say is the one word. The one name. She said it and he heard it. He acknowledged it.

"You didn't have to kill me after all." he says to her.

"I hate you so much." she collapses, resting her head on his chest. "Don't ever do that again. You're not allowed to die."

"I love you too, Maka." he says as he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

They sit there without another word spoken. The only sound in the room is their content breathing and that goddamn beeping.


	5. The Princess and the Pea

Black*Star wasn't kidding when he compared Maka to the princess from The Princess and the Pea. One night without her mattress and she was a complete wreck. Walking around hunched over like a human question mark, she would constantly grumble and growl about how this next round she would get Black*Star back ten times as bad.

Their prank wars always got out of hand.

"You're going to help me get back at him, right?" Maka asked Soul as they finally reached their apartment building.

"You know, I think what you need to worry about now is getting some good rest, and not what prank to pull on Black*Star."

"But you _are_ going to help me?"

"If it'll get you to stop talking about it, then sure. Why not?"

"You've got to admit, he did pretty much involve you in this war when he stole your mattress as well. Not to mention the couch." she reasoned, followed by a few mumblings of how that "stupid fucking ninja was going down."

"Maka, I already said I'd help you get back at him. Now let's get inside and you need to lay down on something cushioned and put some heat on your back, okay?" He instructed as he inserted the key into the hole on their door.

"Has it been twenty-four hours since he took away all the furniture, already?"

"Yes." he opened the door and gestured for her to go in before him. She walked through and he followed closely behind, telling her to go lie down in bed.

"We don't have any heating pads. They keep mysteriously disappearing." Maka called over her shoulder as she made her way to her bedroom.

Soul shook his head and went over to make sure Maka was doing as instructed and actually relaxing. However, instead of lying down, she was sitting up with a book in hand.

"Maka, you are very clearly in pain, you need to lie down and rest. You can read while lying down, okay?"

She shot him a glare and then did as she was told, mumbling her defiance as she did.

"Is there anything else that could help you relax, since we don't have any heating pads, apparently?" Soul asked once she was settled lying on her stomach.

"I can't think of anything else that could help, really."

"A massage might help." Soul mumbled barely understandable, but very audible.

Maka shot him a look, her eyebrows raised, looking slightly irritated, and asked, "What did you say?"

He suddenly went from the firm instructor from earlier to feeling somwhat flustered as he sputtered out, "Oh, I…well, um, do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?"

Her expression stayed the same for a brief moment before morphing into a look of pure "why not" and she nodded saying, "Sure."

Soul walked over, and sat on the bed next to her and began his work with rubbing her back. As he dug his hands into her back, he was amazed at how someone could get so many knots just after one night of sleeping on the floor.

She really was the princess from The Princess and the Pea, and all royalty needed a faithful servant.


	6. Basorexia

Maka Albarn was nothing if not beautiful; this was something Soul Evans ad come to know very well over the years. Everything about her was stunning; the way her pigtails would swish back and forth when she moved; the way her big green eyes could bore into his own red ones and seem to see everything that was going on in his head; the way her smile would light up her whole being, not to mention the room around her.

Every feature was perfect.

Her eyes were the perfect shade of green, shining like emeralds when she smiled or glistening like leaves in a summer rainstorm when she cried. The way they would fight to stay open when she was tired and eventually flutter closed when she gave up; the way they would grow as she looked up at him resembling a pleading puppy; the way they would crinkle at the corners when she smiled at him, or shut completely when she laughed.

Her nose was adorable, everything from the gentle curve of it to the rounded tip. The way the bridge of it crinkled when it caught an unpleasant smell; the way it would turn bright pink in the cold, and the way she sniffled every time she cried.

Her lips looked soft and supple, they had the perfect shape. The way the corners of her mouth would quirk up into a joyful smile; the way she would thrust her bottom lip out in a childish pout; the way her tongue would just barely peek out the corner of her mouth when she was concentrating hard enough.

Everything about her was perfect.

How he wanted to just stare into those eyes forever and get lost in the galaxies that rested behind those pools of endless green.

How he loved to just poke that wonderfully rounded nose, making it scrunch at the bridge at the gesture.

How he wanted to feel those lips on his. Feel just how soft they are. To see how they would feel sliding against his, moving together in a perfect rhythm. How he wanted to take that bottom lip of hers between his teeth and hear the moans that came with it. How he wanted to revel in the feel of their breaths mixing together, and feeling her breathe his name against his mouth.

Except that would never happen.

Because, unlike Maka, he was nowhere near perfect, and never would be. He would always be inferior. Never good enough for anything.


	7. It's a Normal Thing

It had always been a habit, a subconscious thing she did that she didn't realise or even notice. And when she did notice she didn't think anything of it, she didn't find it odd or strange. It was comfortable, it was warm, it was natural.

She didn't find it odd until Soul pointed it out, that is.

"What are you even doing?" he asked with a confused tone, as she was lying down reading a book on her Kindle.

"Reading, maybe you should try it sometime."

"No, I know that. I mean the…" He made a wild gesture with his arms in the general direction of her.

Maka had no idea what the hell he was going on about until she looked down. There it was, as always, her hand was inside her shirt, underneath her bra, and cupping her own breast.

Okay, she supposed, it was kind of strange. But it was warm, cozy, and bouncy– even though they weren't the biggest, they still had playfullness and bounce to them.

She yanked her hand out of her shirt and sat up, trying hard to act like that didn't just happen.

Soul suddenly looked rather uncomfortable, and there may have been a hint of pink creeping onto his cheeks.

"Anyway, I'm just gonna… go… uh, read! Like you said I should try. Yeah… I'll be in my room." he sputtered out before sprinting off and shutting the door behind him.

Okay, that settled it. It was, officially, abnormal. Or was it? Soul was a guy, he didn't have boobs, so naturally he wouldn't know if it was a normal thing to do.

Maka set her Kindle down on the coffee table and pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed up Tsubaki first.

 _*Riiiinngg* *Riiiinngg* "Hey Maka, how's it going?"_ came the sweet voice of her friend.

"Tsubaki, I've got a question for you."

 _"Yeah? What is it?"_

Wait, what if it was a weird thing that only she did? How would she ask Tsubaki that? Would she think Maka was some crazy person?

"Uh, I was wondering… do you ever… like, play with your… chest?"

 _"What?"_

Shit. It _was_ strange.

"Like, your boobs. Do you ever just, like, hold them or something? Because they're warm or something or…" she trailed off. This may have been the most awkward conversation she'd had with the shadow weapon, and they had had explicit discussions about smutty books and even some of their own sex stories. She tries to block stories of the things she and Black*Star get up to out of her brain as best as she can. (But they somehow always manage to pop to the front of mind at the worst of times. With _mental imagery._ )

 _"Oh yeah, I do that all the time. I don't know why, it's just something I do, I guess. Why?"_

"Oh, just because… no reason. But anyway, thank you! I'll see ya later."

 _"Okay, bye."_

"Bye!" She pressed the 'End call' button and then, just for good measure went ahead and called Liz and Patti.

Well, she did more than just _good measure_. In order to be absolutely sure it wasn't some bizarre thing was just her and Tsubaki did, she called up Liz, Patti, Kim and Jackie (who both went into a bit more detail about boobs than Maka had wanted to hear), and even Miss Marie (because maybe it was a teenager thing?). All of which came up with the same answer. Yes.

Maka sighed a sigh of relief. She felt much better now that she knew it was a normal thing and she wasn't some freak.

Later that night at dinner, Soul was uncharacteristically quiet. Well, he was normally quiet, but not this _type_ of quiet. This was an awkward quiet, and there was clear an uncomfortable tone in the air.

She was tired of the awkward silence, and tired of him not keeping eye contact with her, and blushing every time his accidentally lowered to the neckline of her shirt.

"It's not weird, you know." she told him.

He cocked a white eyebrow as he raised his gaze to meet hers briefly.

"Feeling your own– _my_ own… _one's own_ breast. It's a normal thing that people do."

His cheeks went a deep shade of red, and he shovelled more food into his mouth to avoid talking.

"Seriously, it's not a sexual thing or anything. It's just that it's warm and soft and all fleshy and squishy and…" this conversation was getting awkward. Her own face felt warm from the inevitable blush. There was no need to be embarrassed. _It was a normal thing._ She had spent all afternoon establishing that fact.

"But, why do you? It's not weird?" Soul spoke through the small remains of mashed potatoes that were still in his mouth.

"Like I said, they soft and squishy, and they keep my hand warm. And, I don't know, it's relaxing? Calming? I don't know, it's just comfortable."

Soul turned his full attention back to his food, his face still a shade of pink.

She got up from the table and put his dishes in the sink. She walked over to lie down on the couch and try to get back to the book from which she had been interrupted earlier.

"You know," she said as she picked up the Kindle. "I don't understand why you're so embarrassed. I mean, you seem to enjoy the way they feel as well."

He turned his face away as fast as he could, but the bright red of the blush that spread to his ears stood out against his white hair.

It was a good colour on him.


	8. The Things You Said When Crying

It was a letter. A letter handed to her with a curt nod by a man in uniform, his look of sympathy not helping ease the inevitable pain that would come from reading that letter. She didn't open it. She just dropped to her knees, tears flowing freely down her face.

It hurt her. Months had passed and that letter sat there in the study - in _his_ study - wrinkled and stained from all the times she had opened and read it. From all the times her tears had spilled out onto it.

She hated it. Why hadn't she thrown it away. Why hadn't she gotten rid of it? Why did she leave it in the one place that brought a bittersweet smile to her face back when he was still alive? Now the only thing to grace her face when she steps into the room is the wetness from her tears.

Friends urged her to stop going into the study, but she couldn't help it. It was the only thing left that was all him. Everything about the old room was him. From the clutter of old sketches and drawings, to the crumpled up sheet music. It smelled of him, it felt like him, it was him.

She would never feel his lips on hers and taste the mint of his breath. She would never hear his voice that would always fill the house with a sweet melody. She would never be able to press herself against him and feel his heartbeat against her chest and smell the cinnamon on his shirt.

He was gone.

A year had gone and she no longer broke down sobbing in the middle of the kitchen. She had stopped staring off into space every time someone talked about the colours red and white. She had finally stopped grieving.

She decided it was time to straighten up the old study. Gather all the drawings into stacks and throw away the crumpled up songs.

She was doing a good job, any tears that managed to leak out she was able to blame on the dust that had accumulated over time.

She was just about done when she found it. The sobs came out and she couldn't stop them. She didn't want to stop them. She felt they needed to come out. They needed an escape.

Her hands dropped into her lap, the picture laying there loosely in her grasp. She tried not to let her tears ruin the perfect white dress that enveloped the woman in the picture, or the crisp and clean tuxedo that the man wore beside her. She tried not to let her tears ruin the flowers in the woman's hand, or the happy, joyful smiles on their faces.

She brought the picture to her chest and hugged it tightly. The salt of her grief slipped into the corners of her mouth and she bowed her head. She shut her eyes as if that were a way to stop the tears from flowing as she whispered the only thing she could;

"I miss you."


	9. A Very Special Occasion

A party. Soul was _throwing a party_ for death's sake. He hated his own birthday, but this, _this_ , was a special occasion that "needed to be observed with the highest respect and celebrated in the greatest fashion." So there she was on her way to Kid's mansion to see what the hell Soul had planned for this party.

She got there the same time as Tsubaki did, who had on the sweet smile she almost always wore, but Maka knew that she _had_ to think that a giant party for such an obscure occasion was a little overboard. Especially since Soul insisted on needing a mansion for it to be an adequate enough celebration.

"So Maka, do you know what we'll be doing at this party?" Tsubaki asked her as they walked to the door.

"What kind of party games could you think of for this occasion?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure Soul thought of plenty."

The two girls' laughter rang out as the door swung open.

"What are you two all giggly about?" Liz had her foot in front of the door and tossed her curled hair back, showing off sapphire earrings, that matched the colour of her dress. Right. This was a formal attire event. Everyone else would be dressed up as well.

Maka wondered briefly, when she was getting ready, if Soul would throw a fit if she showed up in sweatpants and a T-shirt. She opted not to.

"Just laughing at this whole thing," Maka answered their friend, gesturing broadly in the general direction of the party.

"What? The party? I mean, he's your partner, Maka. You should know better than all of us just how much he loves his piano." Liz said, her perfect eyebrows waggling suggestively. Maybe telling her about a certain nicknamed piano was not the wisest of choices…

They continued down the hall, paying no mind to the various art pieces that summed up Death City's aesthetic lining the halls, and made it into the party room, which was a very large and open space with a few balconies overlooking the room.

"Yes, but a birthday party for some Bartholomew guy who's been dead three hundred years just because he invented the piano? Isn't that a bit… much?"

"His name is Bartolomeo," Soul suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as if summoned by Maka mistaking the name of the inventor of the object of Soul's desire. "And he died two hundred and eighty four years ago, to be exact."

Maka was tempted to make a comment on how no one would know that, and how he was getting more than a little ridiculous, but, again, she opted not to.

She was about to ask what they were going to be doing when Soul seemed to have disintegrated from sight.

She chatted with Tsubaki and the Thompson sisters as they munched on various piano themed cookies; she had to admit, the selection impressed her. There were cookies with dark chocolate and white chocolate chips arranged to look like piano keys, some shaped like grand pianos, and there was even a whole display of cookies arranged to look like the inside of a piano, some as the hammers, some as the strings, and some as the wooden boards holding the whole piano together.

 _Clearly,_ her partner was not going overboard at all.

Ha.

After a considerable amount of stories had been told and cookies had been eaten, Soul called out to everyone from his place on the high balcony. He went on a two minute spiel about the occasion and the history of the piano, and then, at the end, he clapped his hands twice and suddenly streamers burst from the ceiling in a shower of ivory glory, shortly followed by a downpour of black balloons.

Soon they were all buried up to their waists in balloons and some people - namely Black*Star - found amusement in the loud and inappropriate sounds of them popping resounding through the large room.

The next half hour was filled with chaos and clamor while Fire and Thunder - whom Kilik had lost in the mass pile of balloons - decided to wreak havoc and start tripping people and pulling them down into the hellish pit of air filled latex. And then, some of their victims started to crawl around on the floor and join in their reign of terror. Kid was commenting on how it would be hell to clean up, (and how he was lucky, that cleanup was Soul's job,) Patti and Black*Star were still giving everyone a headache from popping them, Liz and Tsubaki had disappeared completely, and Soul was ranting about how no one was giving Bartholomew What'shisface the proper respect and recognition he deserved.

Once everything had calmed down, and Soul had insisted that there was no point left since no one cared about the genius mastermind behind the greatest invention given to mankind, they all decided to wrap things up. They let the guests grab some of the plethora of piano cookies and take them home, and then Soul managed to convince Kid to let him go home and then come back to clean up the mess the next day,(an incredible feat in and of itself), and that was the end of a very long day.

Well, for everyone except Maka.

On the way home, Soul _would not_ stop talking and complaining about how the whole party turned out terrible and the whole occasion was ruined and _nothing_ could make it better. He kept yammering on and on until they stepped into their apartment, and Maka pressed her lips against his in an attempt to shut him up.

It definitely did the trick in stopping his talking as he returned the favour and loosened his lips to work together with hers. It seemed like all the passion that he hadn't used up in his party planning and complaining was put into that kiss as he grabbed her waist and she brought her hands up to cup his cheeks.

She pulled away to look him in the eye, noting with satisfaction that he looked much happier than he did when he was going on about how everyone needed to refine their tastes and understand what was good in life.

"I'm sorry it didn't turn out how you planned it. And I'm sorry I kind of teased you about it and didn't take it seriously. I guess this does mean a lot to you, and I should have realised that."

He pressed another quick kiss to her lips and smiled at her as he brought his hands up to clasp her own.

"No need to apologise. I know I've definitely had my share of teasing you and not taking things that are special to you seriously."

"If you'd like, we can listen to some piano music to celebrate the last few hours of Bartolomeo Cristofori's birthday."

Maka loved the brightness and joy that entered Soul's eyes as she finally got the name right after a whole week of calling him Bartholomew. He smiled big and wide, his teeth on full display, and his joyful gaze gained a hint of mischief.

"Or I could start rambling again and you could try shutting me up."

She laughed at him before wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up to meet his lips. That night Maka gained more appreciation for Bartolomeo Cristofori, the invention of the piano, and just what talented piano fingers could do after years of playing the instrument.


	10. What Happened to All Those?

There were so many memories. So many photos together, so much time spent bonding, cuddling, crying into the soft fur. Maka wanted to both take down all the photos with her in them but also but even more up.

She could not look through those stupid photo albums without crying, but she could not pry her eyes away from them.

She was curled up on the couch, flipping through the pages for the sixth time that day. How she missed the softness of her fur, the warmth of her cuddle, the high pitch of her voice. How many times had she cried herself to sleep in the past only to be comforted by her? And what were those that compared to the amount of tears shed once she was gone?

Soul tried to hide his feelings, would brush it of saying she was just some cat that would never stop bothering them. But Maka knew better than that. When she would lie in her bed silently crying into her pillow, she could hear Soul through the wall. She could hear him break. Hear him shout, kick down his bedside table, and punch the wall. By morning he would be completely composed.

He was quieter than normal. He smiled less - not that there was much to smile about anyway.

He brought a cup of tea over to her place on the couch. He set it on the coffee table with a simple comment telling her she should head to bed soon.

She made no effort to look up at him or acknowledge his words. She just sat there, eyes fixated on the pictures in front of her.

Tears fell from her eyes, sliding down the bridge of her nose always falling onto the cushions. Never the pictures.

Her eyes burned and the lids started to grow heavy, she had almost disappeared from the harsh realities of the world and escaped to her subconscious where maybe, just maybe, she was still alive, when she heard a loud crash and a loud curse from the other room.

She slowly made her way over to her partner's bedroom. Her limbs were heavy with grief and sorrow, and the fatigue from her crying weighed down on her shoulders.

"Soul?" she rasped out. She had barely said a word the past few days, and she thought it might have been too quiet for anyone to hear.

The door swung open to show a face riddled with tears coming from crimson eyes. She had never seen Soul look so vulnerable; so torn apart; so broken. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Instead he just fell forward, his face on Maka's shoulder, his whole body shaking from his sobs.

She rubbed calming circles into his back and they both lowered to their knees, weighed down by the anguish of their loss.

The silence of the apartment was torture as the darkness engulfed them, only fueling their sadness. Soul took a deep breath and picked his head up to look at Maka.

"She's gone, Maka," He didn't dare speak above a whisper, fearing that if he did, he would fall back into a fit of tears.

"I know, Soul. I know," she replied, not knowing of what else to say.

"When we first met her, _we_ were the ones to kill her. But she still had eight lives left. What happened to all those? Where did they go?" His voice cracked at the last question, and he leaned his head back against the wall, looking away to hide the pain in his face.

"I don't know," she whispered barely audible.

She pressed her head onto his chest and he reclined back to lie on the floor. They were both too tired to move to a bed or the couch. They both stayed there, drowning in the quiet of their home, and drifting off to sleep.

That night, in her slumber, Maka relived the memories of all the times Blair had been there to comfort her when she needed a mother or sister figure. All the times she had pulled Maka's head to rest on those bosoms she often used for seduction purposes and obnoxious flirtations. But when she spoke with that soft voice and she sounded so sincere, it helped her through her tears and helped her feel much better.

Blair was in no way their pet. Blair was family.


	11. Catching On

" _Excuse me?_ " Maka practically shrieked the words, then glared at Soul's snickering.

"It's true," Their director and scriptwriter, Kid told her.

"And you actually…" she trailed off, clearly not wanting to actually believe this new bit of information.

"Well, I am the writer of the show. It's good to know what the audience wants, so I occasionally poke around in the fandom."

"But you actually read that stuff?" The mortification was clear on Maka's face, her voice still a few octaves higher than normal.

"Well, _I_ , do not, but I have, erm, associates who do."

Soul looked over at Maka's calculating features. There was a short moment of thought before green eyes narrowed and very tight lips growled out the name "Liz."

Soul sputtered out the laughter that he could no longer contain and Maka turned her glare onto him. He visibly flinched, knowing full well the pain she could inflict. He still had a large bruise on his upper arm, and a sore jaw from their last onscreen fist fight. Although they had the agreement not to hold back power in their punches when they fought, Maka constantly had to call "cut" to make sure that he was okay. He generally wasn't, but he would always lie so they could finish the scene. The girl was brutal, and was definitely not someone he would want to piss off.

"Now, now," Kid intervened before they could begin to bicker. "No fighting or arguing. You can save that hostility for the set. Maka, you are correct, Liz was the one who informed me of this, but it doesn't necessarily mean there will be any changes. I just wanted to inform you that I have scheduled a meeting with the team this evening to discuss the matter. They may or may not insist on a slight shift in plot."

"God, don't tell me I'll have a redemption arc." Soul groaned, tossing his head back. The direction his character was going was far from redemption, plus Soul enjoyed playing the villain. Turning him to the good side just because fans want a two characters to have a relationship was utter bullshit. Besides, fans would continue on "shipping" them together whether or not they became canon. So there was no point in changing anything.

"We don't know what will happen yet. But everything will obviously stay in character, and I feel that, first off, villain turned good guy trope is overdone, and I, personally, don't particularly like it. And second, Casper would not join the side of the heroes, it's not in his nature. I will alert you of any possible changes that may be made after the meeting. You two are dismissed."

"But this is all bullshit!" Maka called out, standing up from her chair. "Why would we change the direction of the plot just because people on the internet want us to fuck. They're obviously perfectly content with writing their own sex scenes."

Soul grabbed her wrist only to have his hand shaken off. He latched onto her again more tightly this time and she whipped her head over to look at him. He tried his best to give her a reasoning look, which he only half expected to work. But surprisingly enough she loosened up the muscles in her arm and heaved a sigh.

"Fine," she said. "I'm leaving."

She jerked her arm away from his grasp and stormed off in a huff. Soul turned to Kid who stood there, neutral expression having never wavered.

"I guess she's just really passionate about keeping the script as is." Soul shrugged.

"Either that, or she really doesn't want to have an onscreen relationship with you." Kid offered as he started placing his papers in his briefcase.

"Well, she's made it very clear that she's against offscreen relationships as well, so it only makes sense."

"You take care, Soul. I'll contact you two later tonight." Kid waved him off without acknowledging his comment.

Soul walked out of his office and made his way to the elevator. The walls were a bland beige colour and the occasional pictures did nothing to spice up the decor. God, he hated this building.

The elevator doors opened and long smooth arms pulled him inside. The elevator doors hadn't even closed yet and his and Maka's lips were already smashed together in a sloppy kiss. The doors were shut and Maka pushed him against the wall, hands gripping at tufts of his white hair. Soul felt around the front wall for the button to take them downstairs but Maka stopped him short. He felt the familiar callouses of her palm wrap around his wrist and guide his hand to her waist. He snaked his arm around the small of her back, pulling her as close to him as she could get.

She detached from his lips and moved down to trace kisses along his jaw.

"I'm thinking Kid might be catching on." he rasped out.

"What makes you say that?" she whispered against the underside of his chin.

"He seems suspicious and–" The feel of her teeth nibbling at his earlobe cut him off, forcing a moan out of him.

"You know Maka, as much as I'd love the elevator sex, maybe we should wait until we're not in the same building as our boss who is already starting to figure out we're together."

She stepped back from her and looked at him, her green eyes filled with burning lust that made his blood boil.

"He's leaving for his meeting in ten minutes. Everyone else is gone, we could easily sneak into a room and hide in there."

"What, and get locked inside?"

"Is there a problem with that?" She stepped forward and pressed against him, her hands slowly making their way up from his chest to his shoulders. There was a challenge in her voice that he almost gave into. He definitely wanted to take her up on her offer, but he knew better than that.

He reached behind his neck and to find her hand. His fingers laced themselves through hers, and looked into her eyes that had seemed to calm down just a bit.

"We really should head out. We can head on over to my place, I'm sure you can wait the five minutes it takes to get there. Call a cab, continue where we left off?"

She sighed deeply and dropped her head onto his chest. She breathed out a resigned "fine" and Soul pressed the elevator button. The elevator jerked as it began its descent and Maka turned her head to look up at him.

"So what were you saying about Kid catching on?"

"Oh right, it's just that he's subtly been dropping hints that he knows. First, I feel as if there's been a few times when he may have caught us together hiding onset. Second, just now when I said that you had made it clear that you don't want an onscreen or offscreen relationship, he just ignored the second part. I could practically see him holding back that knowing smirk. Then there's the whole discussion of the possible change in plot where Casper and Isabelle may possibly end up together."

"Oh yeah, what are your thoughts on that?"

"Ah, well I think–"

The elevator jerked as it arrived on the main level and Maka pulled away from Soul. Maka straightened her clothes and stood up as straight as she could, walking out before him. He was left with a very nice view of her perfect ass, her hips swayed back and forth thanks to her four inch wedges that went perfectly with her blue jeans. The elevator doors started to close reminding him that he needed to stop admiring his girlfriend's ass and, instead, follow her, he stuck his arm out to stop the doors and walked out to catch up with Maka.

He walked outside the revolving door and found Maka waiting impatiently by his motorcycle. Right, he forgot he drove here.

"If Kid sees us leaving together, especially on my motorcycle, then he will _definitely_ suspect something's up." He dug around in his pocket, but could not find his–

"Looking for these?" Maka held up the carabiner that had all his keys hanging from it, a mischievous smirk on her face.

Soul walked forward, shaking his head at the sneaky pickpocket he was dating. When he reached up to grab the keys from her she snatched his wrist and pulled him forward, pressing her lips against his.

Maybe the kiss was distracting for a moment, but he quickly recovered and easily stole his keys back and pulled away from her. She crossed her arms over her chest with a huff and pursed her lips in a pout.

Soul mounted his bike and looked up at her. "Your place, my place, or somewhere for dinner?"

"Ugh, if we must. let's get some food, you haven't told me your thoughts on Casper and Isabelle yet." she said as she got on the bike behind him.

"As you wish."


	12. That Goddamn Fan

Soul hated that fan. It was old and plastic which made it noisy and _loud_ , and Maka insisted on keeping it on tonight, because she was burning up in the summer heat. All the while he was freezing his ass off with the AC blasting mixed with that goddamn fan.

He stared - no, no, _glared_ \- at it, thinking of all the various ways he could put an end to it. There was the simple, Turning-It-Off-And-Unplugging-It, the less subtle Throwing-It-Out-The-Window, or, his personal favourite; Turning-His-Arm-Into-A-Scythe-Blade-And-Slicing-It-Into-Itty-Bitty-Tiny-Barely-Even-Recognisable-As-A-Fan-Pieces.

The sound of a door opening pulled his gaze away, and the sight he saw cleared his head of all thoughts involving the piece of plastic machinery. Maka had just gotten out of the shower, and was just wearing a pink cami and simple paisley patterned panties - the kind one can get in a pack of 5 at your local walmart.

Her freshly blow-dried hair framed her natural makeupless face, and fell onto her bare shoulders. The light pink cami went well with her pale skin, and it hugged her torso, allowing him to admire the way her waist dips inward, before her hips begin. The toned muscles in her legs created visible dents and curves, even when she just stood there.

She started over towards the bed, walking daintily, on the balls of her feet. She crawled into bed, on top of the comforter that Soul was burrowed in. She leaned down for a chaste kiss, and rolled onto her side with a shirt and simple "g'night."

He stared at the pink and ash blonde in front of his eyes, and reached a hand out of his safe haven of warmth to comb his fingers through her hair. She remained with her back to him, so he inched himself forward and placed a soft kiss to her shoulder blade. There wasn't much of a reaction from her, but he caught the slightest shift in her soul wavelength. He trailed light kisses up her back, to her neck, and over to her shoulder. He pulled his whole arm out into the cold air and reached over her to grab her hand.

"Yes?" Maka turned her head to look at him as he loomed over her.

"I wanted to say good night properly."

"I'm sorry, what's the proper procedure for this particular night time salutation?"

"I" He pressed a quick peck to her lips, "will show you."

He leaned down to meet her lips in a much longer kiss than the two pecks they had just shared. Their hands parted and his arm snaked around her stomach, until he had his hand on her far hip. She rolled over onto her back and wrapped her arms around his neck. His thumbs dug into her hips, and he moaned into the kiss as she took his bottom lip in between her teeth.

Their breaths and moans mingled together creating a chorus of sound, and Soul realised he did not want to stop "saying good night."

It seemed like Maka felt the same way, as her hands moved from Soul's shoulders up to his hair to bring him closer to her and farther into the kiss.

"I missed you." He spoke into the kiss.

"Mmhmm" she hummed, not wanting to break contact with him.

"Maka," He said, caught between not wanting to break the kiss, and wanting to talk to her.

She pulled away slowly, resting her forehead on his with their noses touching.

"Are you too tired from the plane ride? Too tired for…"

She sat up and cupped his cheeks to look him in the eye. Those hooded green eyes of hers held fire and passion, and he knew her answer right then.

She answered him further by pressing her lips to his and running her hands through tufts of white hair.

He pulled away from the kiss, much to her dismay, and looked at her eyes that showed surprise and confusion.

"But first," she cocked an eyebrow, and he felt a hint of a blush crawl up his cheeks as he continued on sheepishly. "Can we turn off that goddamn fan? It's freezing in here."

In response he got a pillow to his face. Maka followed that up with a pillow thrown at said goddamn fan, and then continued where they left off.


End file.
